The Untold Christmas Story
by Delano
Summary: The untold Christmas of Lupin and Tonks during HBP. We all knew there was something more going on. Twoshot. Complete.
1. The Werewolf

**AN:** Merry Christmas everyone! (If you ask me, it's been a wonderful Christmas since the 21 when Jo--very kindly, might I add-- revealed the title for book 7! YAY) So, I know this is weird for all my usual readers (if I really have usual readers...I have a few, I suppose). This could generally be classified as a romance fic...you didn't see that coming from me, did you? Anyway, if I ship anything, it would be TonksLupin, and I've had this idea floating around in my head for ages, so I thought it would be a nice little Christmas (or, for the politically correct among you, "Holiday") gift for you. I'm sure those of you who are following LWR right now are thinking that an update for that would be better, but I'm sorry. The characters (really everyone but Lily and Athena) refuse to cooperate with me, and its very frustrating. The next chapter is coming though, so don't lose faith on me now.

Anyway, as I said before, I've had the idea for this two-shot fic for ages. Originally, it was just the second chapter and just a simple one-shot, but about a month ago I stumbled upon two different works of fanart that inspired this first chapter. As soon as I can figure out how, I'll put the links up in my bio, so you can all see the pretty pictures.

But, without further ado...the story:

* * *

Remus quickly shoved what little belongings he had with him in the canvas bag he had brought from headquarters. If he was lucky . . . well, if he was lucky, then it was still early enough that no one would be awake and he could escape from the caves unnoticed. Of course, Remus knew he not lucky. He just hoped that maybe the Fates would smile upon him just this once, and allow his to slip out unnoticed. It wasn't that he wasn't allowed to leave; Greyback allowed the pack to come and go as they pleased. It was just that for weeks now, Greyback had been anxious to know _where _Remus often slipped off to.

Ever since the beginning of July, Remus had been living with Greyback's pack permanently. In the year beforehand, he had been spending time with Greyback's pack and several other packs in England. A couple of days here, or a week there; he was never there for long, but Dumbledore needed someone to be in constant connection with the packs. He needed to be informed of what Voldemort was asking the werewolves to do. Remus willingly obliged. After all, no one else was really suited for the job. After a few days with one of the packs, he would return to Grimmuald Place and would take care of whatever odd jobs needed to be done there. He never minded his time spent at Grimmuald Place. When he was younger, perhaps, he would have scoffed at being asked to do the menial tasks he was asked to do. But he had realized that staying at Grimmuald Place with Sirius was as important as anything else Dumbledore could have asked him to do.

Remus was aware of Sirius's growing recklessness long before anyone else was. It seemed that from the minute Dumbledore had issued Sirius the order to remain at Grimmuald Place, Sirius just wanted to get out. Not that Remus blamed him. Sirius had endured some of the worst times of his life in that house, and to be forced to stay locked in that miserable house . . . Remus knew from the beginning that eventually Sirius would crack. When they had gotten word in June about Harry rushing off to the Ministry, Remus knew there was no chance that Sirius was just going to sit patiently inside the house and wait for them to return. Not when every single person Sirius cared about was going to go risk their own neck. Remus had argued with him as they hurriedly contacted other members of the Order. He had begged him to stay put so that when the fight was over, Harry would still have his godfather. Sirius scoffed at his warnings. He had spent far too long being a prisoner inside his own house. He was sick of being unable to fight. Of course, Remus had known this too.

So Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius had fought much like he always had. He threw caution to the wind when he should have held reservations, taunted his opponents when he should have kept his mouth shut, and immersed himself in the battle when he should have been aware of surroundings. When everyone else had stopped fighting when Dumbledore appeared, Sirius and Bellatrix had not. And Sirius had paid for that mistake with his life.

The weeks succeeding Sirius's demise were . . . difficult, to say the least. Remus couldn't claim that he was unused to losing his friends. Since he had been bitten when he was four, it seemed that all he did was lose his friends. The week between the fight at the Ministry and the full moon had mainly consisted of Remus burying everything inside himself, as he often did. There were more important things that had to be taken care of then his painful emotions. They had to completely evacuate Grimmuald Place, in case Sirius's will had been bypassed by ancient magic and the house fell into Bellatrix's possession. They had to help the wizarding community cope with the sudden knowledge that Voldemort was back. There were missions that needed to be completed and preparations to make for the up-coming war. There was simply no time for grieving.

Of course, after the full moon, no one in the Order had any misconceptions about how Remus was handling his loss. The fact that, even though he had been given Wolfsbane Potion, he had nearly torn himself apart while he was locked in a fortified room at their temporary headquarters had been enough proof for everyone that he was not well. If Remus were to rate the worst full moons he had endured, that one had to be in the top five. It was shortly after that full moon that Remus agreed to live with Greyback's pack permanantly. Dumbeldore had made the suggestion for that plan of action months ago, but at the time, he had been unwilling to agree. Timing was perfect now, though. His new mission allowed himself to occupy himself. It gave him other things to think about. He quicky severed ties with the few friends he had left and threw himself into his work. The few times he had returned to Grimmuald Place for meetings had been painful and awkward.

But now he was preparing himself to return again. Dumbledore had insisted that he take Christmas off, that he return to headquarters, at the very least, and allow himself to relax. "Even you need a reprieve from your work, Remus," Dumbledore had assured him. Remus had argued, of course. He always did. Dumbledore ignored his protests, told him to stop being so self-deprecating, and ordered him to take time off. And the matter was settled. One normally didn't go far when they argued with Dumbledore, and Remus was no exception.

Remus sighed and quickly glanced around. He didn't hear anyone and, in the dim light, he didn't see anyone either. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder and started to make his way out of the caves. Greyback had found a labyrinth of caves in the countryside that was perfect for a large pack of feral werewolves to hide. The chances of any unwanted visitors finding them was slim to none, and even if they were found, the caves were impossible to navigate unless one already knew where to go. Even some of werewolves had trouble getting around. Remus had always felt blessed that he never fell under that category. He had a keen sense of direction and an even keener memory. He hadn't been living in the caves for more than a week before he had the entire layout of the caves mapped out in his head.

When he was just over a hundred meters from the main entrance into the cave, he heard someone behind him. He froze where he was.

"Going somewhere, Lupin?" Greyback's grizzly voice echoed throughout the cavern.

Slowly, Remus turned to face the cause of his childhood nightmares. Greyback was not an attractive man by any stretch of the imagination. He had a mass of matted grey hair; his teeth were filed to points, and his fingernails held a greater resemblance to claws. His presence was always foretold by an unappealing scent of sweat, dirt, blood, and alcohol. He was a symbol of everything Remus reviled, and a warning of what Remus could become if he let the wolf overcome him. "It certainly looks like it," he replied evenly.

"Don't be smart with me, boy," Greyback growled. "Where are you going?"

Remus looked the older and larger werewolf in the eyes. "I'm taking an indeterminable leave of absence." He turned his back to Greyback, fully prepared to leave, but Greyback reached out and grabbed his left wrist, forcing him to turn around as he did so.

"Stop dancing around the question, Lupin," he ordered, his claw-like nails digging into Remus's skin. "Where are you going? Are you running back to Dumbledore with your tail between your legs?"

"Where I'm going is none of your business, Greyback," Remus replied, resisting the urge to flinch as Greyback's nails sank deeper into his skin.

"It's my business if I think you're endangering the pack," Greyback drawled. "You've consorted with wizards before, what's to say you won't sell us out now?"

"I'm not endangering the pack."

"Prove it."

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

"I demand that you tell me," Greyback ordered, his tone not leaving any room for agrument. Remus, however, was not one to yield to the man who had ruined his life, and was in no mood to play the part of the obedient and submissive werewolf.

"I left Dumbledore because I was sick of being told what to do," Remus growled, well aware that he was lying through his teeth. " I was fed-up with being controlled and manipulated by the old man. I came here to be treated like an equal, instead of being someone's pet-werewolf. I didn't leave one tyrant to join another. You don't own me and you don't control me." He wrenched his arm out of Greyback's grip. "Now I'm leaving, and I'll be back in a few days."

"Then we'll finish our talk then," Greyback hissed as Remus stalked off.

He hurried out of Greyback's presence, knowing that at any moment the older werewolf could change his mind about letting Remus go and knowing that he did not want to be in the vicinity when Greyback did. When he left the cave, he carefully treaded through the woods outside until he was at a safe distance to disapparate. Casting one quick glance to make sure no one was following him, he disappeared and almost instantly reappeared on the lonely street of Grimmuald Place.

Remus stared up at the lonely house that was faintly illuminated in the light of the morning sun. Sirius had always hated this house. It was easy to see why, of course. The house was terribly foreboding and an oppressive atmosphere encased it. Sirius once commented that it would have been the perfect breeding grounds for a dementor. Remus sighed, a small part of him feeling glad that Sirius no longer had to stay cooped up in the house, and hurried up the front walk. After stepping inside, he pulled the door closed quietly behind him. The portrait of Sirius's mother was irate as ever, and Remus had no desire to engage in an argument with it. He set his bag down by the front door and looked around. The house was empty, which was just as well. He was tired and his arm was beginning to sting. He didn't much feel like conversing with anyone at the moment.

He pulled up his left sleeve (which was now stained dark red with his blood) to inspect the wound. Expectedly, each of the five small punctures on his arm were beginning to look red around the edges. Merlin only knew what Greyback had under his nails. It would have been foolish not to expect some sort of infection. He trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. When the Weasley's had been living at Grimmuald Place, Molly had been sure to stock the upstairs medicine cabinet with a plethora of potions. It was almost as if she expected her children to get hurt. Although, when Remus thought of Fred and George, he reasoned that it was probably a wise assumption on Molly's part. He pulled open the medicine cabinet and stared at the assortment of potions bottles. He smiled at the sight of an old fire-whiskey bottle and wondered whether Sirius or the Weasley twins had left it there. Moving aside the alcohol and a bottle of Pepper-Up Potion, he found the small green bottle he was looking for. It held a very powerful disinfectant that also sped up the natural healing process. Gingerly, he drew the bottle from the cupboard. Remembering as he unscrewed the cap that he also needed a clean rag, he left the bottle on the counter and turned around to grab a washcloth off the rack behind him.

The sound of breaking glass caused him to turn around At his feet were the shards of the broken potion bottle; the potion was already seeping into the rug. "Dammit!" He hollered, letting his frustration overtake him. Normally he didn't swear (even minor swearwords like 'damn' or 'hell')-- something that James and Sirius had always teased him about at school. He didn't really see the point in using vulgar words when h could express himself just as easily without them. Many of his fellow werewolves, however, did not feel the same. And after so many months spent exclusively with them, he found he was beginning to adopt their vocabulary.

"Remus?" a voice called from down the hall. "Is that you?"

Remus hastily pulled the sleeve of his robe down as he heard Molly Weasley bustle down the hall. She stopped in the threshold of the bathroom. "Molly," he said politely, summoning a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I left some Christmas shopping here," she explained. "Presents for Arthur and the children that I didn't want them finding. What are you doing here?"

"I'm staying here for the holidays," he answered.

"You're not going home?" she asked. "Ton– I mean, I thought for sure you'd be with your family."

He shook his head. "Not this year," he replied steadily.

"Why don't you come to the Burrow, then?" Molly said, sounding quite earnest.

"Oh, no, Molly. I'd hate to intrude on the family," he said, ignoring a painful twinge from his arm.

"Oh, it's not just the family," she said. "Harry is already there, and Fleur," Molly made a face, "is coming with Bill."

"You've got enough people coming," Remus excused himself again. "You shouldn't have to be burdened with an old, destitute werewolf like me."

"Oh, Remus, you are not old, and you are certainly not a burden. Not to mention, you look like you could use a few good meals," she insisted as she looked him over. Remus watched as her eyes narrowed in on the dark stain on the sleeve of his robes. "Remus, you're hurt."

"It's nothing," he answered. "It's just a scratch."

Molly stepped closer and gently took his arm in her hands. Before he could protest, she rolled up with sleeve. "Just a scratch, hmm?" she queried as she inspected the punctures on his arm. "Who did this to you?"

"Greyback," Remus replied. "He and I had a . . . run-in as I was leaving."

Molly looked affronted. "Is this type of thing normal after a run-in with him?"

Remus shrugged evasively. "Depends on who you are," he said. "For one with a certain lack of status in the pack like I have, then I'd say it's fairly common."

She shook her head. "Dreadful," she muttered. "Absolutely dreadful. Well, sit down, then, and I'll take a look at this," she said briskly, indicating the Remus should have a seat on the toilet.

Remus sat down obediently as Molly made herself busy sorting through the potions in the cabinet. She had accurately deduced what had transpired with the potion, and readily assured that she had stored a spare bottle of that very same potion somewhere else in the cabinet. When she had realized how easy it would be for Tonks, who was very clumsy, to accidently break one of the bottles, she explained, she figured it would be wise to have spares.

It felt odd to Remus to have Molly look after him like one of her children. He was far too old to be her child. He felt that he should be able to look after himself, and he had for years. He was unused to the feeling of being taken care of. And as he sat on the toilet seat, Molly sitting across from him on the edge of the bathtub, gently pressing the potion-soaked rag to his arm, he felt very foolish. Molly removed the cloth and looked up at him with a smile. "There you go, Remus," she said. "Now, I expect you at the Burrow before five tonight, all right?" Remus opened his mouth to argue, more out of habit than anything else, but Molly cut him off. "No, don't argue. You need several good meals, a good night's rest, and some time to relax. Enjoy yourself, Remus."

"I'll be there," Remus conceded with a slight smile.

"Good. Well, I've got to be going," she said. "I left Ron and Harry to cut some vegetables, and Merlin knows that one of them will probably cut off a finger." Molly quickly excused herself and within moments, the house was deserted again, save Remus.

Remus stood up, brushing off his shabby and patched robes and meandered his way up another set of stairs to the bedroom he claimed as his own when he was staying with Sirius. The room was the same as it was when he had left it. It was sparsely decorated; only a few pictures of his childhood friends on the walls and a few of his favorite books on a shelf. Sitting on his neatly made bed was his mutilated copy of Dante's _The Inferno_. It was one of his favorite books, but it had been misfortunate enough to be in the same room as Remus during the full moon after Sirius's death. The book never stood a chance, and Remus was unable to repair it But the broken book aside, he needed to pack for his few days at the Burrow. _And a shower wouldn't be half bad, either,_ he thought wryly to himself.

He crossed the room and pulled open his wardrobe. Instead of a mirror hanging on the inside of the door, he simply had a picture. Tonks, he hair spectacular shade of pink, stood next to him. They were both smiling and waving at his and her face expressed such joy, such peace. She looked beautiful.

He tore his gaze from the picture.

At one point in time, he and Tonks probably would have been very happy togther, but such happiness was not to be. Remus had been attracted to Tonks the first time they met when the Order reconvened. She was so bright, so colorful, so _alive_. She was a breath of fresh air in his weary world. He soon found himself looking forward to every time they worked together for the Order, every time he got to talk to her. Of course, he thought it was wishful thinking . Why would a young woman like Nymphadora Tonks want an old werewolf like him? It wasn't until Sirius started making comments about the way she looked at him, or how she suddenly got clumsier than usual whenever he was around that he began to realize that his feelings were not one-sided. Remus was still a little reluctant, though. She didn't know what she was getting herself into by trying to become romantically involved with him. Sirius repeatedly told him he was being a twit, and did everything in his power to push the two together. Remus figured he would never forget the telling-off he gave Sirius after he hung mistletoe all over Grimmuald Place last Christmas. But slowly, he and Tonks grew closer, becoming one of the Order's worst kept secrets. There was no doubt in Remus's mind that then they would have been happy together.

But things were different now, and whenever he thought of Tonks now, he could only felt a longing pain in his heart. He told her, just before he left for Greyback's pack, that he could no longer hold claim to her affections. She deserved so much more than he, a destitute society outcast, could ever provide. More than that, he was afraid of hurting her. Not physically, although, as a werewolf, that was a high possibility, but emotionally. He knew life with the pack was dangerous, and he knew what most of the pack would do to him if they found out he was still in almost constant contact with Dumbledore. He knew what it was like to lose loved ones to death, and he would not subject her to that anguish. He would protect her by keeping his distance, even though it killed him inside to do so.

So, when at all possible, he tried not to think about her. Thinking about her hurt as much as thinking about Sirius, but at the same time, thinking about her when he was ready to give up was just about the only thing that kept him going. Her smiling face and her pink hair and her infectious laugh were an escape from the horrors of living with Greyback's pack. Without her, he probably would have given up all hope multiple times. She was so much for him; she was always there for him. When he finally broke down after Sirius's death, when he finally collapsed while packing together Sirius's old things as they prepared to evacuate headquarters, when he finally let himself cry for the first time in fourteen years, she had been the one to find him and hold him and tell him it would 'be okay' as his entire world crashed around him. And for that simple action, he owed her so much. He loved her, but he knew that it was unfair for him to do so.

Remus quietly finished throwing some clothes to take with him to the Burrow that evening, before stepping back into the shower for a very long and a very hot shower. Afterwards, he dressed and returned to his room. He wanted to finish packing then find something to eat and take a nap before he left, knowing full well that Molly would dither over him if he didn't look his best. In his room, he pulled open his desk drawer, hoping to find the book he had last been reading. He didn't have much time for reading with the pack, and he wanted to finish it over the holidays. When he picked up the book, though, he saw something he did not expect to find. Underneath was a small gift he had bought for Tonks ages ago. It wasn't much, but it was something he could afford. He meant to give it to her for her birthday in September, but he had never gotten around to it. He picked it up and flipped it over in his hands. He smiled. Better late than never. Tomorrow was Chirstmas and he was sure Molly and Arthur would let him borrow their owl if he asked. Of course, he would have to make sure Molly didn't know who it was for, or she would look into it too much, and he would have to add the finishing touches before he sent it, but it was doable. And he and Tonks were still friends, he reasoned, so why shouldn't he send her a gift for Christmas? Without giving himself time to think better of the idea, he threw it into his bag with his clothes.

When he showed up at the Burrow later that evening, Molly reacted just as he had expected. She dithered over him again, making sure he got third helpings of supper and telling him he could leave his belonging in Bill's room, which he would have to himself. He protested this last development. He had no intention of robbing the eldest Weasley child of his room, knowing that he would be forced to sleep with Fred and George otherwise, and he could just as easily sleep on the couch But Molly insisted, and Bill said he didn't mind at all. In fact, he said didn't think he would mind sharing a room with his brothers too much. At the very least, he told Remus, the night would be eventful. In the end, Remus found himself forced to give in. The evening was enjoyable, once he managed to ignore the obvious tension between Molly and Fleur, and by the end of it, he even found himself laughing with Harry when the sixteen year old referred to his lycanthropy as a 'problem' much like James used to do at school. He found that he was able to get the best night sleep he had had in months.

The next morning was just as enjoyable as the night had been. Molly had overdone herself with gifts for him. Not only did she knit him a sweater (as she did for everyone at the house, save Fleur), but she had also knitted him a scarf, a pair of thick gloves, and a hat, and she had also gone out of her way to make sure his favorite foods were on the table for Christmas lunch. Other than that, he didn't receive many gifts. His father had sent him something (his mother died some five years ago), and got a few cards from his friends from the Order, but that was all. Although, at the same time, it was more than enough. At the end of Christmas lunch, though, after a thoroughly embarrassing encounter with Scrimegeour and Percy, only one comment made by Molly really stuck with him.

"I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas alone, actually."

Tonks was spending Christmas alone, while he was here, surrounded by friends and good company. It wasn't right, he reflected later in Bill's room as he added the last touches to Tonks's gift. He couldn't shake the feeling that her solitude was somehow his fault too. _Well, _he thought to himself as he listened to the distant noise of the crowd downstairs, _there's one way to remedy that._


	2. The Metamorphmagus

"Nymphadora, dear, you can't keep letting boys treat you this way," Andromeda Tonks said reproachfully, setting a cup of tea down before her distraught daughter.

"Who said anything about a boy?" Nymphadora, who adamantly desired to be known by her surname, asked.

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "You always have trouble with your Metamorphosing when you're having troubles with boys. You're a very head strong girl, Nymphadora, but when it comes to men, you just let them walk all over you."

"I don't have a problem with men right now, Mum," Tonks said, taking a sip of her tea. "I'm not even seeing anyone right now."

"Really?" Andromeda mused. "Maybe that's the problem, then. I heard something in the office the other day about that one auror, stationed with you in Hogsmeade. Oh, what's his name?"

"Jason Savage," Tonks supplied wearily.

"Yes, that's the one. I heard he's quite keen on you."

"I don't want him to be keen on me, Mother."

"It's because you like someone else, don't you?"

"I don't like anyone," Tonks said, putting her cup of tea back on the table and standing up. "Look, I came by to drop off your Christmas presents, Mum, not to have a lecture on boys. And now that I've done both, I think I should leave."

"Don't leave, dear," Andromeda insisted. "It's been so long since you've been around. You've been so busy lately, with work and all."

"No, I've really got to get going," Tonks said, grabbing her cloak off the back of the chair.

Not letting her mother's protests stop her, she pulled on her cloak, and headed to the back door where they had an apparation point. She heard her younger brothers argue with each other behind her, and she waved to her dad on the way out, but mostly she just wanted to be gone. She apparated safely to her rented flat on the second story of someone's home in Hogsmeade. It was as much of a home as she had now. It was small, but cozy. Just the way Tonks liked it. Most people thought her to be very frivolous, which was easy to understand because she normally walked around sporting bright pink hair, but when it came to her home, she was unnaturally conservative.

She hung her cloak up by the door and kicked off her shoes. With a flick of her wand, she turned on her old stereo system. An old _Weird Sisters_ album was in there, and listening to it resonate throughout her flat always made her feel better, to an extent. Music could only do so much. She trudged into her room, and changed back into her pajamas, flannel shorts and a grey long-sleeved shirt with the auror's insignia on it and a thick pair of green socks. She paused for a moment in front of her mirror. Her hair was mouse-colored and lank. Her skin was pale. She looked sick. She was also a few inches shorter than what she normally pretended she was. That had always been a perk of being a Metamorphmagus. If she didn't like something about herself, she could change it in an instant. But not now. She was so down that she was lucky if she could change her eye color, nonetheless her height.

She sighed. There wasn't much about her appearance she could do now, so why bother? All she wanted to do was mope, and, seeing as how it was Christmas, she decided that a day full of nonstop moping would be her Christmas gift to herself. After fixing herself a mug of hot chocolate, she plopped herself down on her couch in front of the fire place. With a flick of her wand, a fire was roaring. Staring into the fire, she allowed herself to replay the conversation with her mother.

Andromeda Tonks was an interesting person. She completely disobeyed her parents wishes at the age of nineteen and got married to a muggleborn by the name of Ted Tonks, and act that was strictly taboo among most pureblood families. She then proceeded to have children, the oldest of which was Nymphadora. Andromeda had never agreed with her oldest daughter's taste in men. She always seemed to find the men who were perfectly wrong for her. She also thought that her daughter should marry into a well-known, well-to-do family. Every time Andromeda mentioned that, Tonks had to keep from calling her mother a hypocrite. Her mother was a smart woman, full of advice and experience, but when it came to her daughter's romantic relationships, the circumstances were always different. She claimed to know who was right and who was wrong for Tonks, but never asked for Tonks's opinion. Which was why Tonks never mentioned her latest heartache to her mother.

Remus Lupin was not well-known and could hardly be described as well-to-do. Quite the opposite, actually. Remus was a werewolf, shunned by most of society and unnaturally poor, not that Tonks cared. He was a reprieve from all the idiotic, blundering, egotistical tossers she normally ended up dating. Remus was intellectual, generous, and understanding. He had a wicked sense of humor. He was just an all around amazing person, and Tonks had fallen head-over-heels for him. For a year, they had grown closer together, and were heading towards the formation of a steady relationship. There were certainly some issues that they were going to have to work around, but nothing Tonks wasn't up for. Then, tragedy struck. Remus lost his best friend, Sirius Black. Sirius was Tonks's second cousin, and he had been killed by her Aunt Bellatrix, not that she had ever really met the woman. Remus had taken the loss to heart more than Tonks had expected, and all of her hopes of dating him were smashed to dust.

Remus had fallen into some sort of slump, but very few people realized it. Whenever Tonks pestered him to admit his feelings, he always came out with the same excuses. He was too old; she deserved someone her own age. He was too poor; she deserved a young man who could provide for her. And the ever popular, he was too dangerous. Granted, that excuse was somewhat understandable, but she told him many times that none of it mattered. He was solely focused on what she deserved that he never stopped to think about what he deserved, or what he wanted. He shut her out after Sirius died, and she didn't know what to do. And since she couldn't turn to her own mother, she turned to Molly Weasley – known to Tonks as the surrogate mother of the Order of the Phoenix, the secret organization against Voldemort that both she and Remus were in.

Molly was loaded with good advice and sympathy. She never scolded Tonks for her taste in men, and was always trying to cheer her up, usually to no avail. Honestly, Tonks didn't know what she would have done without Molly around to tell her that Remus was being an unnatural prat, and that none of this was her fault. Molly had actually invited her over to her home for Christmas. Remus was going to be there. So what Tonks was doing at her own home was beyond her. She could be at the Burrow right now, surrounded by people. She could be convincing Remus that he wasn't in the right mindset, and that she didn't care about his werewolfism, or whatever it was called. She loved him, and that was all that mattered. But she was here, alone in Hogsmeade.

Part of her didn't want to see Remus. He would probably try to avoid her, while not ignoring her. Tonks didn't want to put herself through that like some glutton for heartache. Not to mention, she didn't want _him_ to see her. Not like this. She looked sick, hardly presentable to him, not that he would care. But, then again, Molly had said that Remus wasn't looking well himself. He was on a mission for the Order, and was currently living with a pack of werewolves headed by the infamous Fenrir Greyback himself. Tonks knew enough about werewolves to know that their living conditions would be wearing Remus ragged. She didn't know if she had the heart to see him pale and malnourished.

A knock on the door pulled Tonks out of her thoughts. She sighed. "Who is it?" she called to the door, not eager to stand up.

"It's Jason, can I come in?" Jason Savage called from the other side of the door.

She groaned. Couldn't he ever leave her alone? "No," she called back.

"I'm coming in, anyway," he said opening the door and letting himself in. "You should really keep the door locked, Tonks. You're just asking for Death Eaters to come barging in if you leave it unlocked like that." He locked the door as he shut it behind him as if to prove his point.

Tonks didn't look his way. "I told you I didn't want you coming in," she said.

"I know," Jason said, hanging his cloak up by the door. "You've been looking sick lately. I came to make sure you're feeling alright."

"I"m fine, Savage. I just want to be left alone," Tonks said

"Don't lie to me. You've looked terrible for months," Savage said. "Well, I don't mean that you look terrible, just that you haven't looked like yourself."

Tonks turned around on the couch and stared at her colleague. "This _is _what I look like, Savage. This is one hundred percent real Tonks."

Savage grinned. "Well you haven't lost your spunk," he said.

"Go away, Savage," Tonks said irritably. "Please."

"It's Christmas, Tonks," Savage said. "You shouldn't be alone."

"If I wanted company, I'd be somewhere else. I wanted to be alone."

Savage looked around, before sitting down next to Tonks on the couch. "This about that bloke, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That bloke, you know, the one who's the reason why you won't go on a date with me," Savage said.

"He's not the only reason why I won't go out with you, Savage," Tonks said.

Savage picked up a picture off of her coffee table. It was of her and Remus taken by Sirius last Christmas. They were both smiling and laughing and enjoying themselves, just like they should be now. Savage looked from the picture back to her. "Is this him?" he asked. Tonks didn't reply. "He's too old for you, you know."

"He's not too old for me," Tonks snapped.

"He's got grey hair, Tonks."

"He's gone grey prematurely," Tonks argued. "I think it makes him look distinguished."

"It makes him look old," Savage retorted.

Tonks felt color rise in her cheeks. "Savage, I didn't want you in here in the first place, and I certainly didn't want you to come in here and mock my friends. If you don't get out in the next two minutes, I will force you out."

"Have I upset you?" Savage asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

"No, I'm just peachy," Tonks snapped back. "Now get out."

"Look," Savage said. "I'm sorry if I've offended you. I just–"

"Get. Out."

"Tonks, just relax. I didn't mean any harm by it, honest."

"OUT, Savage!"

Savage finally seemed to get the clue and stood up with a sigh. He pulled on his cloak and pulled open the door. "I'm sorry," he said before he left. "I didn't mean to upset you. I've just been worried about you lately. You need someone to cheer you up. I'll be by again later, and we can go out for a few drinks, or something, okay?"

Tonks didn't say anything, but just glared at him. He seemed to get the point and left. She hated men, is what she decided when he was gone. All of them were stubborn and pigheaded, and even the ones who weren't egotistical oafs were convinced that there was some reason why a relationship would never work out. Who's bright idea was it to make the heart so easily hurt by men? Whoever it was, they definitely needed to be _crucio_'d around the block and back again. Tonks repositioned herself on the couch so that she was laying down on her side, and, as she thought of brutal ways to punish all men in general, she drifted off into sleep.

The sound of knocking brought her back to her senses. She groaned. She didn't think that Savage would actually have the nerve to come back. Especially not today. Why could he never take a hint? "Go away, Savage," she called loudly at the door. "I don't care how lonely you think I am, I don't want to go get a few drinks with you. Take the hint."

There was silence on the other side, and Tonks hoped that Savage had come to his senses. "Erm, well, if I see him, I'll tell him your not interested, Tonks," a light and very familiar voice said from behind the door. Tonks's heart fluttered. It was Remus. She'd know his voice anywhere. She pulled herself off the couch and launched herself towards the door, tripping over an end table in the process.

Tonks wrenched the door open. Remus was standing before with a slightly sheepish grin on his face. He looked ridiculously thin, and his hair was now streaked with liberal amounts of grey. Dark shadows circled his eyes, which had a certain despondent look in them. He was wearing an old threadbare cloak over patched robes. Under his robes he wore an old pair of slacks and a newly knitted sweater that was probably the courtesy of Molly. In his hand was a small wrapped gift. Just the sight of Remus before her made Tonks go weak in the knees._ How does he do it?_ she thought to herself.

"Remus," she said with her first genuine smile in weeks. "Come in. It's freezing outside." She didn't wait for him to give some excuse not to come in. She grabbed his wrist, which she noted, was disgustingly thin, and pulled him into her flat. Remus was caught slightly unaware and found him being pulled into Tonks's home, and led into the kitchen. "Would you like something to eat or something?"

Remus shook his head, taking a seat at the table. "I just came from the Burrow," he explained. "Molly tried to give me enough food to last for the next three months."

"Well, it's not like you don't need it," Tonks replied, searching her cupboards for something to give the older man. "Honestly, Remus, you're rail thin."

Remus smiled weakly. "It's just part of the lifestyle, Tonks. I don't know about you, but personally I've never seen a fat werewolf."

"That doesn't mean it's healthy. How about some hot chocolate?"

"Look, Tonks," Remus said softly, staring at the table. "I can't stay long. I just came to–"

"Please," Tonks insisted, holding an empty mug in between her hands, looking earnestly at the man before her.

Remus looked up at her, studying every feature of her face before he slowly nodded. Again, Tonks's face lit up. She bustled around her small kitchen as she made two more mugs of hot chocolate. When she finished, she set one down in front of Remus, then moved across her small table and took the seat across from him. "How have you been doing lately?" Remus asked as he sipped the hot chocolate. "It's been awhile since I've seen you."

"I'm doing okay," she said. "There isn't much action around here. Well, not other than that incident with Katie Bell a couple months back. We still haven't figured out where that necklace came from. All that ever happens, it feels like, is that I take mad orders from Dawlish (who is a complete moron, by the way) or I get hit on by Savage. What about you? How're you doing with Greyback and the other werewolves?"

Remus smiled sadly as he stared down into his drink. "It's not going to well," he said quietly, carefully shielding his emotions. "It's . . . hard. They hardly trust me, and well, that makes things worse. But it's something I can do," he finished, looking up at Tonks.

She could tell by the tired and hurt look in his eyes that his mission was a lot harder for him than he let on. No one in the Order, save Dumbledore (and possibly Sirius had while he was still alive), knew the exact details of what Remus had endured, but Tonks suspected that his physical health wasn't the only thing in jeopardy. The mental and emotional strain he was under had to be almost unbearable. The thought of Remus in any sort of pain tore at tore at her heart, so she decided to change the subject quickly. "So, what brings you this way?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Other than the company, of course."

"I bought you a Christmas gift," Remus said kindly, plunging his hand into his pocket to pull out the small gift he had been holding earlier. "It's nothing too special, and I was going to send it in the post, but I didn't think it'd reach you in time."

"I got you a gift too," Tonks said brightly. "Lemme go get it." Quickly, she stood up and left the room, her heart pounding in her chest. Remus just sent her so many mixed signals, she had no idea what to believe. He had meant to send it by owl, which meant he never planned on coming at all. But he did get her a gift, which was a good sign, but what if it was a friend-type gift? What if he had only gotten her something as a courtesy? _He doesn't have enough money to buy people pity gifts, Tonks,_ she scolded herself as she pulled her unwrapped gift out of her desk drawer. Trying to ignore her racing thoughts, she returned to the kitchen. "I'm sorry it's not wrapped. I wasn't sure when I'd get the chance to give it you," she said, hiding the gift behind her back. "But, anyway, I saw this in a muggle bookstore, and, well, I remembered you telling me it was your favorite, but that your copy had been ripped to shreds, so I went ahead and bought you a replacement."

Trying not to blush like a dimwitted school girl, she pushed the copy of _The Inferno_ across the table. Remus picked it up, on hand smoothing over the cover as he carefully inspected the book. "Thank you, Tonks," he said, not looking up at her. "This means a lot to me." He pushed his own gift across the table. "Open it," he insisted when she had picked up the small parcel and was staring at it in confusion.

"Right," Tonks said, trying not to blush again. Carefully she pulled off the colorful wrapping around the package, only to be confronted with a box. Hesitantly, she lifted off the box's lid. Inside was a small leather-bound journal, and delicately embellished across the front in a looping gold script read the words:

_When all is dark and there's no light, _

_Lost in the deepest star of night,_

_I see you._

Tonks was speechless; those words were the opening words to one of her favorite songs. Not looking up, she flipped open the journal, surprised to see that the first page already had writing on it.

_A small and simple gift for a woman who is anything but. You give me hope when there is none to find, and you give me solace when peace is beyond my grasp. 'Thank you' would never be enough to repay you, and an expensive and flashy gift would insult the depth of impact you have had on my soul. So I give to you a small bit of what you have given to me: a place to keep your thoughts when light eludes you. _

_You held me in your arms as I fell apart, and allowed me one small escape from a world that has never been kind to me. And though I cannot allow myself to return your feelings, be comforted with the knowledge that you have made your mark on my soul, and I'll carry you with me always._

Tonks took a moment to blink unbidden tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath to regain her composure and looked up to thank him only to find that Remus Lupin had already left.

* * *

**Final note:** So, I have to ask, what did you all think? This is a new genre for me, and I'm curious to know whether or not I'm any good at it (hahah). Anyway, please forgive any spelling errors or glaring cannon errors. I've tried to proof read both of these chpaters extensively, but there are only so many mistakes that I catch. For my LWR readers, I am trying to get the next chapter up soon, and I sat down the other day and planned out at least four or five chapters, so hopefully that will speed up the process.

Anyway, Happy Holidays. I'd be very appreciative if you'd all review!

Peace and love


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